


Origin

by KodaWickett



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KodaWickett/pseuds/KodaWickett
Summary: Johnny Marr is living the typical suburban teenage life.  He goes to school, has an unrequited crush on his friend Robert Smith, and obsesses over music instead of paying attention in class.   His routine is disrupted with the arrival of Steven Morrissey.
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Morrissey, Johnny Marr/Robert Smith
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get 90s teenage Johnny Marr having an unrequited crush on Robert Smith out of my head. So this was born. Series starts here in high school then goes through university and beyond.

Johnny jotted down chord progressions in the margins of his notebook, glancing at the whiteboard every now and then to give the appearance of taking notes. He wasn't a burnout like most believed, he just found World Geography to be incredibly dull. Mercifully the bell rang and he was off to his next class, English Language Arts. He filtered in line behind other students racing to get to their destinations, however Johnny wasn't in a hurry. 

"Maher! Get a move on, if you're tardy again that's an automatic Saturday school with me." Johnny rolled his eyes, but quickened his pace. He didn't want to spend more time with Coach Davis then he had to. When he finally arrived to class, there was a boy sitting in his seat, his eyes glued to the book he had on the desk in front of him. He fixed his hair and strode toward him. "That's my seat." 

The boy kept reading, not even bothering to glance up at him as he spoke. "Mrs. Nelson said I could sit here." He looked up at Johnny then, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "She said out of all her students you wouldn't mind. Guess she was wrong." Johnny huffed in annoyance. The pretentious tone in his voice, grated Johnny's nerves. "Guess she was. I'll take Robert's seat then, he's never here anyway." 

Johnny sat across from the obnoxious boy.  _ "Who does he think he is? That seat was mine freshman year and I claimed it again for senior year. Who changes schools this late in the semester anyway?" _ Johnny thought to himself while he unpacked his bookbag. After the role call, he learned the git had a name, Steven Morrissey. For the first time in the year, Johnny couldn't wait for this class to be over with. 

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully, until finally it was his lunch period. He sat with Robert, Simon, and Andy at their usual outdoor table. They listened gracefully as Johnny ranted about how much Steven Morrissey annoyed him. Johnny threw a balled up napkin at Robert for teasing him about having a crush. "Fuck off.  _ You _ know what I'm like when I have a crush." The table got quiet then, the boys eyes were going back and forth between Robert and Johnny as the silence stretched on. Robert smiled, voice going soft in the way that made Johnny's stomach sick. "I suppose I do. Shame I couldn't return the sentiment. If I didn't have Mary, we would be the talk of the town Johnny boy." 

Johnny lost his appetite then. "Yeah. Well, I'm off to the library. I've got a free period after this and if I'm caught wandering the halls or ditching again, I get to spend Saturday with Coach Dick." The group laughed at the derogatory nickname Johnny used to describe the Football coach and World Geography teacher. As he walked away he could hear Andy berate Robert for being so insensitive. "It's only been a week since you turned him down. Show a little compassion, asshole." 

*********************************

The library wasn't a place Johnny frequented often, he preferred to read at home, but he was in the mood to lose himself in a good book. He browsed the shelves for something that would take his mind off of Robert Smith. "Looking for anything in particular?" "Not from you, no." It was the hurt expression on Steven's face that made Johnny apologize, he looked like a dog that had just been left at the shelter. 

"Sorry. I…. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's been a rough day." Steven hummed in agreement. Johnny nervously shuffled his sneakers across the carpet. "To answer your question… no. I'm not looking for a specific book per say, just something to make me stop thinking about someone." Steven smiled and to Johnny's annoyance, he rather liked the way it added to his appearance. "Follow me!" 

Three shelves later Steven, who had explained along the way that he preferred to be called Morrissey, had led him to the horror section. "Here, try this." Morrissey held out a copy of 'Master of Murder' by Christopher Pike. Johnny took it, thumbing through the first few pages to see if he would enjoy it. "You've read this?" Morrissey shook his head. "No but my sister Jackie loves his work and I trust her opinion." "Right. Well, thanks." 

Johnny was about to walk away and sit in an unoccupied bean bag chair when someone sat in it first. Since the only good chair was taken, Johnny set out to find Morrissey. He found him by the poetry section. "Sorry to interrupt your browsing but… how did you know where to look? Aren't you new here?" Morrissey laughed quietly, Johnny noticed it held a musical quality. 

"Yes, moved to town over the weekend. Robert Smith, dreadful fellow, gave me a tour after home room this morning." Johnny knew that Robert could be awful in the morning but he felt compelled to defend him. "He's not dreadful, he's….. charming." Morrissey selected four books from the shelf in front of him and gave Johnny a pitying look. "Oh, Johnny. Robert is a ruffian. You can do better." 

Johnny could do better, he knew that. He had tried with Angie but she moved across the country last summer. Robert was his best friend, they were thick as thieves and he'd been the one to help pick up the pieces of Johnny's broken heart. Which was how he developed this ridiculous crush in the first place. "Is that all, young man?" The voice of the librarian brought him out of his thoughts. "Uh. Yeah, thanks." He took a seat at an empty table, he liked the round ones best, and started reading the book Morrissey recommended. 

When the bell rang, signaling it was time to go home Johnny didn't notice. "Are you a library rat too then?" Johnny placed the book in his bag and stood up from the chair, stretching his aching back and arms. Morrissey's eyes followed the movement of Johnny's t-shirt riding up, exposing a sliver of skin. "Not really. Thanks again for the book recommendation, I trust Jackie's opinion too." 

Johnny slung his denim jacket over his shoulders, grabbed his backpack, and exited the library. When he arrived in the student parking lot he found Robert waiting for him at his car. His heart fluttered when he saw Robert leaned against the passenger side door, sunglasses on and ankles crossed like the leading male from one of John Hughes movies. "Yes?" "Andy said I was acting like a dick, so I came to apologize." Johnny grinned. "Told him you weren't a ruffian, but apology accepted." Robert cocked his head to the side. "Who said I was a ruffian?" "Morrissey." 

Robert scoffed. "He's one to talk. Morrissey is a pompous twit but I like him, we all do, don't fuck it up for us Johnny." Johnny didn't bother to ask when the others had met Morrissey, Moorecrest High School wasn't too large, they were bound to cross paths at sometime or other. Robert uncrossed his ankles and straightened his posture. "I've got to find Mary but… we're cool?" "Of course." His voice broke slightly, Robert didn't notice. "Wicked!" Johnny tried not to watch him walk across the parking lot. 

***********************************

Morrissey was surprised to see John Maher, or Johnny Marr as he preferred to be called, pull up in the driveway beside his house. He didn't know the model of car Johnny was driving, but somehow it fit him perfectly. When he was spotted watching him, Morrissey decided to wave hello instead of retreating behind the window curtain like he desperately wanted to. Johnny nodded in his direction, not surprised to discover they were neighbors, but not too thrilled about it either. Within the hour there was a knock at his door. 

"Mom wanted me to invite you for dinner, on account of you being home alone. She said your mom mentioned that you're a vegetarian like me, we'll have plenty." Johnny idly ran a hand through his hair and continued to speak. "Can't sleep knowing I let someone go hungry. Where are your folks anyhow?" Morrissey looked at his feet, paying an inordinate amount of attention to his fraying shoelaces. "They're at work." Johnny looked like he was going to ask another question but Morrissey interrupted it, he hated discussing most things but he loathed mentioning anything of his home life.

"Does dinner start now? If so, I need to change my shirt, damn cat smothered me in her hair while I took a nap." Johnny laughed. "That's unfortunate. No, Mom's cooking meatloaf for the carnivores. I'd say you've got forty minutes." Morrissey wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Gross." 

In the end, Morrissey didn't show up for dinner. Johnny didn't care but his mother was upset and for that Morrissey would apologize. He knocked on the door to find a rumpled looking Morrissey, with a cat held in his arms. "You didn't come. My mom was worried sick." Morrissey started stroking the cat's fur. " Settle down, Oscar. Time must have ran away with me. I'm sorry. Tell Mrs. Maher I didn't mean to offend." 

"Yeah. Well you did." A moment passed while Johnny attempted to calm down, when his head was clear he realized there were no cars in the driveway. "Your folks still working?" "Obviously." Morrissey drawled in an annoyed tone and turned away to shut the door. Johnny stuck his foot between an open space and the doorframe. "Wait…. I have leftovers in the fridge. I'm going to go grab a plate and leave it on the porch." 

Morrissey sighed. "I'm not a charity case Johnny, I'm 18. Besides, I thought we weren't friends." There was something in his tone that Johnny couldn't decipher. He was left staring at the door as Morrissey shut it and a few moments later he heard the lock click. Johnny returned to his kitchen and transferred food to a tupperware container, then attached a folded note to the top with his name on the front. He didn't look back after knocking once and placing the food on Morrissey's porch. 

When he woke up the next morning his mom was standing in his room, tupperware container held in her hands. Johnny smiled when he noticed it was empty. "Thank you dear. I believe this is for you." It was a post it note with  _ 'Johnny' _ neatly scrawled on top. He turned it over and as he read the smile fell from his face. 

' _ Tell Mrs. Maher the meal was delicious. But I'm afraid this will be the last. I meant it when I said I am not a charity case, my parents have been working two jobs my entire life. Jackie learned to survive just fine and I've followed suit. At first I considered joining your family for dinner, but after much thought I realized it was better that I stay home. We can and should be civil to one another as neighbors and in our shared classes, but I don't do friendships Johnny. I hope you understand."  _

**********************************

After receiving Morrissey's note, Johnny started avoiding him. Robert was once again there to pick up the pieces. They were laying on Robert's roof one night, smoking cigarettes they stole from his dad. "Morrissey has always been an aloof ass." Johnny was confused. "You know him?" Robert scooted closer and Johnny inhaled his scent; cologne, cigarette smoke, and something sweet. If he had to guess, Robert had been using Mary's shampoo again. 

"Yeah. The Cure faced off against The Nosebleeds at Lincoln High's battle of the bands. The band sucked, but Morrissey has a good voice and even better stage presence, so those fuckers beat us." Johnny finished his cigarette and shivered, he wasn't cold but he knew Robert would wrap his long arms around him. He felt Robert whisper into his hair, trying to hold onto the tingling sensation for as long as he could. "I meant what I said Johnny boy. If I didn't have Mary or Simon, I would have you." 

Everything slowly changed after Coach Dick wanted to see Johnny suffer, when he assigned Morrissey to be his partner for an upcoming project worth half their grade. They avoided each other like the plague except for Thursday at 1 pm after lunch when they met at a worn table in the back of the library. "What in God's name are you wearing?" Johnny made a show of eying his shirt disdainfully, although it looked good on him. Morrissey glared at Johnny. "I think it looks fabulous. I borrowed it from the Drama department." 

"Stole it, more like. But yes, Robert Smith is the only ruffian in Moorecrest High School." Johnny's laughter was infectious and soon Morrissey found himself joining in. Morrissey sobered instantly, scooting his chair a little farther away. "One shared laugh, does not mean we're confidants." Johnny looked up from his notebook. "How 'bout two then?"  Morrissey didn't reply. 

The pair continued working in silence until Morrissey started humming an unfamiliar tune. "What song is that?" Johnny asked, feeling a jolt of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He hadn't felt this alive in weeks. "Moz! What song is that?" The nickname slipped out by accident. Johnny had been secretly referring to Steven Morrissey as 'Moz' and on a really good day 'Misery Mozzer' because that boy took relish in being a depressed bastard. 

Morrissey blushed and whispered so softly that Johnny had to lean in to catch what he was saying. "It's a song I wrote years ago. Sorry, didn't mean to distract you." Johnny nodded and tried to make his voice sound more casual than he felt. "Ah. It was good. Really good, actually." The ball was left in Morrissey's court and as it turned out would be sat there for another month. Johnny was on pins and needles the entire time, he couldn't get that tune out of his head, even wrote an additional piece for it. 

***********************************

The Cure had their first gig outside of town and of course Johnny was there to support the band. The crowd was a little too rowdy for his taste but to each their own. A hush fell over the group when Robert began to sing. 'Pictures of You' was their latest song and as predicted it did very well. 

Johnny had rehearsed what he wanted to say to Robert after the show. "The band was great! You were electric out there. But...I can't be your close friend right now. Need to sort out my shit first." He didn't get the chance because when he headed toward the backstage area he saw a girl blocking the hallway. She was on her knees in front of Robert, he was leaned against the wall for support, one hand gently combing through her hair, the other bringing a beer bottle to his lips. 

The only bright spot in the week was getting a passing grade for the project he and Morrissey had worked on. Lunch had been strained lately. Andy wasn't around much these days, too busy stuck up the ass of his new friend Mike Joyce, but Johnny knew Andy better than Andy knew himself. He recognized a crush when he saw one. 

Which as far as the whole 'first boy crush' goes, Mike wasn't a bad option, he could play the hell out of a drum set, so Johnny reckoned he could stick around. The only problem with this was Simon wasn't there either, leaving Johnny and Robert alone. Robert was currently tracing the curve of Johnny's ankle with his foot. This casual but not casual amount of touching had been happening more after the incident backstage. He was used to receiving a little of it when Mary or his bandmate Simon wasn't around to scratch an itch, but this felt like an apology and it was pissing Johnny off. 

Johnny considered ripping him a new one in front of everyone in the courtyard. Then decided against it. He said goodbye, grabbed his uneaten food, and looked for a place to sit inside. There was an unoccupied table in the back of the room, perfect for him because Robert couldn't look in the window and see where he was. He started walking toward it when a tap on his shoulder interrupted his stride. "That's where I sit." 

"You can't claim an entire table for yourself Moz. This is a cafeteria, in a public building." Morrissey sighed. "Yes. I'm painfully aware. But we can't sit together. Find somewhere else." Just then Mike Joyce and Andy Rourke raced past them and claimed spots at the forbidden table. Johnny looked at Morrissey and smiled his most charming smile. "Now that's settled. Let's have lunch." 

Johnny introduced Morrissey to Andy and Mike. The conversations were stilted until Mike asked Johnny if he knew anyone looking for a drummer. All ears were attentive, waiting to hear an answer. "I am, actually. I've been writing some songs lately and I think they've really got potential for a full band. Thing is I just need a bassist and a singer. Know where I can find any?" He said jokingly but his eyes went back and forth between Andy and Morrissey. 

Morrissey broke the silence first. "No. I don't do friends and I don't do bands." Johnny scoffed. "Bullshit. Acorrding to a trusted source, your last school the band you sang for won the battle of the bands. You were also friends with the entire band." Morrissey muttered something that sounded a lot like, "Meddlesome ruffian." Johnny picked at his food while he continued speaking. "Sounds like there's a tragic backstory involved. Perfect for a lead singer, if you ask me." 

The boys launched into a discussion of where to practice and what times worked best for everyone. It was decided they would meet up on Saturdays at 4 pm but they needed to choose a different area because Morrissey refused to attend if they chose The Stump. The Stump was an abandoned skatepark in town, it earned its name from the tree stump located near the entrance. Mike's brother owned the storage units across from Lloyd's Diner, he suggested they could practice there. 

"There's a unit set aside for local bands to jam. Matthew could get us in, that way we wouldn't have to do an acoustic practice. The fee is 100 but I bet I can get it knocked down to 50." Everyone agreed on that. "Now we just need a name." "The Smiths." Morrissey threw the name out with such a matter of fact manner that it surprised the boys. "Hmm. I like the sound of that. Boys?" The Smiths had their first band practice next Saturday, 4 pm, at Joyce Storage. 

At the end of the day Johnny found a yellow post it note stuck to his windshield. ' _ My house. 7 pm sharp. Bring your guitar, your songs, and more of your mother's delicious cooking.'  _ Johnny laughed, after an awful week things were finally looking up. ***************************** 

Morrissey was nervous. He arranged and rearranged his bedroom at least a thousand times before the doorbell rang. Johnny was here, finally. He ran down the stairs and used all of his years of theater training to appear calm, cool, and collected when he opened the door. "Hello, Johnny. Come in." He smirked while he watched Johnny's eyes go wide at how different the house looked inside. 

"Shall we?" He asked, gesturing to the staircase. "Yeah, we'll probably need forks though." Ah, right. He'd forgotten about the food. Once he had retrieved two forks, he led Johnny upstairs to his bedroom. He hoped Johnny wasn't secretly ridiculing him for having the most sparsely decorated room that any teenager in 1992 could have. 

There was a wall length bookcase that held books on the first half and records on the second. A twin size bed. A desk, accompanied by a desk lamp and his journal. A small tv that he hardly watched. On his coffee table lay his most prized possession, a record player Jackie bequeathed him before she went to university. 

Johnny immediately set down his guitar and propped it up against the wall, his journal went on the desk, and the tupperware was laid on the bed. His attention was captured by the records as he meticulously looked through each one. Morrissey could have declared his undying love for him, provided the attachment to Robert Smith had fizzled out, when he heard the first notes of ' You Could Be The One'. 

He was thrilled to find that Johnny liked music from all decades. He became enthralled when Johnny played the song he heard Morrissey hum, all those months ago. Hours later they decided to finally eat what Mrs. Maher had cooked for them. "Every good band has an origin story, Johnny. I think this is ours. The Smiths has what it takes. I know it." Johnny agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny gets closure. The Smiths are a roaring success. Morrissey discovers why he loves to perform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include mention of suicidal ideation and homophobia.

' _ There's something freeing about lying in bed, a record on, imagining you have ceased to be a person.'  _ Johnny tried his best to control his displeasure at what he read. Morrissey was his friend, they had a rocky start, but in the two weeks since forming The Smiths they had become inseparable. The pair sat at their favorite table in the school library, meant to be studying but decided to pass each other notes in between. 

He wanted to channel his mother's nagging energy, he chose to agree instead. Because he did, Johnny knew what depression and suicidal ideation felt like, but he also knew that he wanted to live to spite everyone who had made him want to die. Morrissey practically thrummed with pleasure and Johnny should have dragged him kicking and screaming to the counselor's office, he didn't because he was afraid they would take him away. Music was their shared obsession, if it would keep Moz alive then Johnny would play the guitar until his fingers were torn to shreds. 

"How is our ruffian?" Johnny bit his lip to hide a smile. "Robert is still as charming as ever, he's better now that he decided to be a one person kind of guy. Not that I thought his previous lifestyle was out of sorts, he just wasn't the best at open communication." "Hmm. Polyamorous is the word you're looking for Maher." Morrissey laughed at the glare Johnny gave him. "Don't you dare call me that again." Morrissey quirked an eyebrow. "Or what?" 

Johnny felt the challenge and it burned in his gut. Getting over Robert Smith was something he never thought possible, until Steven Morrissey came along. Developing crushes on friends after forming deep relationships with them was ill advised. So, to remedy this Johnny kept his emotional distance. He let Morrissey flirt, noticed those longing looks across the storage unit they practiced in, allowed Moz to scoot closer to him as they wrote songs together, but Johnny knew it didn't matter because Morrissey would never act on it. 

Johnny wanted him to though, desperately. Then one day by some miracle he noticed the way Jake Walters was seething with jealousy, watching Morrissey wrap an arm around Johnny's waist as they sat huddled together on the bleachers in gym. "Someone's got an admirer." Morrissey blushed, Johnny thought it was rather pretty. "Do shut up. Jake is… a new friend. He wants me to come over and be a subject for his photography project." 

Johnny ignored the flicker of jealously he felt. He knew about Walters and his phony projects. The school didn't even have a Photography Club, Jake just got off on taking semi nude photos of boys he thought were cute. It was creepy but since he never showed them to anyone else Johnny told Moz he should go. "Jake said he could do Saturday…. at 4." 

"Go. Seriously, I think parading in front of a camera half nude will help liven you up. If he wants to get a leg over…. Just be careful, use protection and all that." Morrissey was shocked. "You're giving me permission to not attend band practice in hopes that I'll have sex." He said the word with utter disdain but Johnny knew it was all an act, the celibacy thing, his songs were dripping with sexual desire of the homoerotic sort. " Of course I am. You've been a real pain in the ass lately." He said with a smile then left Morrissey to join a group of boys playing basketball. 

  
  


******************************

  
  


Robert climbed through Johnny's window Saturday night, drunk and reeking of vomit. "Christ! Jesus, fuck. Go shower. Talk later." Johnny helped him into the shower and averted his eyes, they hadn't talked since Christmas but somehow over two months he had developed more muscle. He picked up Robert's discarded clothes and after taking his wallet out of his jeans, went into the basement to throw them in the washing machine. 

Robert woke up with a throbbing headache. Johnny's voice was barely a whisper near his ear. "I faked sick. Everyone's gone to church. Gonna take care of you today Rob." He nodded and wished he hadn't, pain radiated from his head through his spine. "Shh. Get some sleep. I'll have coffee for you when you wake up." 

Robert slept for two hours. Johnny cleaned the crusted blood off of his face, neck, and arms while he waited for him to wake up. Eventually his stomach growled, so he left his bedroom and went to make something to eat. When he returned, he found Robert dressed and idly picking strings on his guitar. 

"Feeling better?" Robert nodded. "Thanks for patching me up Johnny boy." Johnny knew that Robert would do the same for him, had done a year ago in fact. "Mary or Simon?" Johnny asked in reference to which one caused him to deal with his emotions by getting into a drunken brawl after The Cure's final show for the semester. He sat on his bed, careful to give Robert space, and hid his face behind his growing hair, he was starting to like it being long. "Simon. Gallup ended things last night after practice. He said he couldn't be second fiddle to Mary. But he's not. I… I love them both." "Polyamorous is the word you're looking for." Johnny said in his best impression of Morrissey. 

They talked it out, Johnny mostly listened but interjected when he thought it was necessary. Robert had inched closer as he talked, his thighs were touching Johnny's and his head was resting on Johnny's shoulder. "Rob… you don't have to answer but have you ever thought about loving me the way you do Mary and Simon?" He could feel Robert's breath warm on his skin. " Yes. Which is why I fought you so hard on it because at any point I can lose both of them. Don't ever wanna lose you." 

Robert sat up. His eyes traced a path from Johnny's brown eyes to his pink lips. The moment lingered before he dove in and kissed him. Johnny didn't turn away, although he thought he should have. Halfway through another kiss he noticed there wasn't the nervousness he usually felt, he wasn't reacting in any way actually. Had he finally moved on? Or was this numbness a defence mechanism? "Should have done that years ago. Well, thanks for everything. I need to split before the Maher brood gets back." 

******************************

His family arrived moments after Robert left the house. Johnny's lips still tingled from where Robert kissed him. After eating a bowl of his mother's infamous vegetable soup he called Morrissey. "Hello?" " Hi, Moz. It's Johnny." "You've been crying. What's wrong?" Johnny sniffled. "I havent." Morrissey argued with him. "Alright, alright. Jesus. Yes, I've been crying. Can you come over?" "I'm on my way, right now." 

Morrissey found Johnny buried underneath the blankets. "Sick hmm? Don't sound sick to me." He heard a muffled, "I'm not." Morrissey sat on the other side of the bed, careful not to disturb Johnny. "Decided to tell the man upstairs to fuck off?" Johnny didn't laugh. "I'm not telepathic. You're going to need to say something." Johnny's voice sounded soft and broken. "Rob came over last night. Crawled through the window. I took care of him." 

Morrissey wished he could look at Johnny's face. "Was the cretin dreadful this morning then?" "He was drunk. I helped him get in the shower before letting him sleep. But after he woke up we talked… and then he kissed me." Morrissey's chest tightened as he sucked in a breath and hoped Johnny didn't notice the change in his voice. "Oh." Johnny peeked his head from underneath the blankets then, looking Morrissey in the eye. "Moz?"

Morrissey scooted in closer on the bed, stretching his long legs and resting his head on the wall. He closed his eyes as he spoke. "No wonder you skipped church this morning….. Johnny Marr you are a heathen." Again, Johnny didn't laugh, which was a shame because Morrissey loved to hear that sound. "There's nothing to be ashamed about. You weren't the instigator. Besides, everyone has kissed Robert Smith, it's just his ruffian charm." Johnny slid up where his head was also resting on the wall, blankets bunching up around his torso. "Everyone? Even you?" 

Morrissey narrowed his eyes. "Your hair is an absolute mess." Johnny's hands flew to inspect his hair then stilled. "Quit deflecting. Have you?" Johnny asked with a building intensity. Morrissey rolled his eyes and fixed Johnny's hair the way he preferred it, slightly tousled and with a fringe. "Of course not, I'm the only boy in this godforsaken town that has taste." Johnny settled down then, nestled himself in his blankets. Morrissey moved to get up but Johnny tugged on his shirt sleeve. "Stay." Morrissey stayed. 

  
  


******************************

Johnny tried to talk with Robert about what happened. Robert just shook his head, smiled and said, "No worries. It was a bad night and you were just taking care of me. We're cool, Johnny boy." They were. Soon everyone returned to the cafeteria table, even Robert, on account of the winter wind being too much for anyone to handle. 

Morrissey and Johnny started a routine of sleeping at each other's houses. Moz usually came over to Johnny's claiming he liked his record collection better and his sister Claire would let him win when they played Super Mario Kart on the Super Nintendo. Johnny knew that what Morrissey really liked was how his house was truly a home. 

The Smiths had their first show in the basement of a local university. Jackie had helped them get the gig and despite the crowd being years older, it was a success. Morrissey developed a stage persona fairly quickly after that, gallivanting around without a care in the world, his voice smug and sultry. The boys had to remind him that although 18 is technically an adult, they'd prefer not to defend his honor from hoards of drunken hormone addled college students. 

After a few more positive gigs, they all agreed to increase practice times to Saturday and Sunday. Sunday couldn't be booked at the storage unit though so they practiced in Andy's garage, at least he had central heating so the band stayed nice and warm. Johnny would give Moz rides back and forth from practice. Eventually, those car rides morphed into spending every waking moment on the road together. One of them couldn't sleep? They drove around town. They had excess energy after practice? They talked about things only their journals knew, while parked outside of the local grocery store. 

"Do you ever think about… dying?" Morrissey asked. It wasn't a secret that his friend had depression but lately it was seeping into every aspect of his life and Johnny didn't know how to help him through it. Johnny carded his fingers through Morrissey's hair as he thought about how to respond. Morrissey never batted Johnny's hands away even though he was annoyed with the action. "Yes." He whispered into the darkness of the car, watching the streetlights flick on, illuminating the surburban neighborhood in front of them. 

They were lying together in Johnny's bed, both wide awake despite needing to get sleep before school in the morning. "What happened with Walters? You never said." Morrissey felt his cheeks heat up, glad Johnny couldn't see. "He said I had potential but wasn't ready to be seen yet. Gave me his number, asked me to call him when I was ready to be appreciated." Johnny made a retching noise. "That's sick. He's a creep. What'd I tell ya." 

Morrissey disagreed. "I know creeps, John Maher. Jake Walters is not one of them. He's an artist. But, I don't think the day will ever come when I'm ready to be appreciated." Johnny frowned. "Haven't you ever?" He trailed off, not able to bring himself to ask the question he now wanted most to know. "Yes. Twice, both times were abhorrent. Case closed. Now, go to sleep. I'd hate to exert so much energy having to drag your lazy ass out of bed in the morning." 

Johnny wondered who Morrissey's partners had been and why he hated the experience. He couldn't fathom hating sex, he also couldn't understand why someone would waste the opportunity to worship Moz the way he ought to have been. As he drifted off to sleep he idly entertained what it might be like if he were the one to give Morrissey what he was desperately crying out for, perhaps in an alternate timeline, Johnny would have. 

******************************

  
  


Morrissey was sure of two things: his mental health wasn't getting better and he was in love with Johnny Marr. Sexuality was a no discussion zone for him. Publicly, he preferred to hide behind the veneer of celibacy, and let his songs speak for themselves. At his former school he had been subject to ridicule, physical torment, and in the end isolation because of his fashion choices and flamboyant behavior. Truth be told, he was an easy target for neanderthals, but it didn't hurt less knowing they chose to evade their own pain by causing his. 

He decided he would take this secret to his grave, there were days he wished for death to come early. Then there were nights, like ones where he and Johnny would ride around in his car, that he prayed death would never come. To cope with these intense emotions he wrote more songs, pushed the band to be excellent. A crowd pleaser and his own personal favorite was 'Hand In Glove'. 

Morrissey loved performing on stage. For the forty five minutes The Smiths had booked, he got to become another person. One who twirled and pranced without hearing an infernal monologue condemning him for enjoying what he was doing. He let the love he had for Johnny spill forth into artfully bizarre vocalizations, and occasionally made eye contact with his guitarist. His anguish and passion was displayed for all and sundry, and for those forty five minutes he didn't give a damn. 

The Smiths were growing in popularity. He could almost taste a record deal that would suck them out of this horrid town. Morrissey refused to let the career counselor talk him down from his dreams of being a successful musican. If push came to shove he supposed being an author would do, but he didn't forsee that day happening. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their senior year comes to an end, Johnny and Morrissey begin to confront their inner demons. The Smiths and The Cure perform at an end of school party. Morrissey realizes that perhaps living isn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how late this chapter is. I had gotten sick and then caught up with moving to another state. My dog and I are settled in nicely now. Thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy the final installment of Origin. Cadence which is The Smiths college years is up next. Look for that soon! As usual: All mistakes you see are mine, and feel free to talk to me on Tumblr: astoldbykoda is my url

Winter soon changed to Spring. The boys cracked down on their studies and put band practice and gigs on hold, planning to resume their usual schedule after midterms. Johnny had booked them a slot closing for The Cure at an end of school party, despite their high school social status, their music was beloved by all. In the meantime, Johnny needed to make sure he passed Economics and Mathematics so he could graduate. 

Now that the weather had mellowed, Johnny and Andy could resume playing soccer. Moorecrest’s first game of the season was tonight and Johnny wasn’t as excited as he ought to have been. They had been on a team together since their first tryouts for the recreation department in kindergarten. Andy loved playing the game but Johnny’s heart hadn’t been in it for awhile. “Johnny boy, score a goal for me tonight? Imagine the ball is Coach Dick’s face! I’d be there to cheer you on but Mary wants to look for prom dresses early.” Robert slid into his usual seat in English, continuing to make idle chatter with Johnny until their teacher hushed him. Morrissey’s seat stayed empty for the remainder of class and Johnny tried not to feel the ache his absence left behind. 

Morrissey hated doctor’s appointments. They were unnecessary if one was healthy. His mother wouldn’t have any of his protests though so he decided to sulk as he waited for the handsome doctor to come back to his office. “Ah, Steven. Would you mind waiting in the hallway? I need to chat with your mom for a minute, I’ll get you when we’re done.” He rolled his eyes but got up from the chair he was sitting in and slowly moved toward the door, carefully cracking it so he could listen in. “Mrs. Morrissey, I’m sure you are aware of how thin your boy is. How are his eating habits?” “ He eats sporadically, a staunch vegetarian mind you, but lately all he does is pick at his food.” Morrissey heard the sound of the doctor taking notes before he continued his line of questioning. “And his sleeping? Have you noticed a change there?” 

In the end, Morrissey had returned to school with a diagnosis of Depression and a referral to see a youth psychiatrist. Instead of going to class immediately he meandered around thinking of how his mother shouldn’t fret over him, everyone was depressed nowadays. “ Look what we have here boys! Someone’s not where he should be now is he?” He knew that voice. Gray Stevens, quarterback for the football team, and all around asshole. It wasn’t long before he and his group of goons started chasing him, yelling homophobic slurs at his back as he ran. Morrissey was holed up in the library, not an unusual feat, except today he was hiding. Fate had it out for him because after he escaped the football cronies, he ran into members of the basketball team. That group of neanderthal jocks decided it would be hilarious to play a round of 'smear the queer' in which the big strong beefy boys tackle whoever they deemed queer. It was true, he liked boys. Though he couldn't convince his voice to tell everyone else. Morrissey didn’t think he was brave like those before him, confidently displaying their sexuality so proudly despite persecution. 

Besides he wasn’t a fool. Both groups of jocks sharing a single brain cell were a nuisance but they didn’t pose any real threat. However with university looming over them, he would have to mind his p’s and q’s. Morrissey longed to be on stage again, telling the audience who he really was felt ten times better than going to confession any day. At least the audience could choose whether or not they believed him, if he bared his soul to his mother’s priest he feared his father would send him to conversion therapy. 

Johnny found Morrissey in the library, hunched over and reading a book he couldn't see the title of. "Moz?" Morrissey jumped and quickly tried to hide the book with his hands, Johnny had mocked his reading choices more than enough. "Hello, Johnny." "Wanted to see if you were alright. I heard about those dickheads chasing you down. Simon and Robert roughed 'em up for you." Morrissey looked down at his feet. "Thanks. I'm fine. Only two more months until we graduate. Then we'll be off to Rosemont University." “If I make it that long.” Morrissey thought to himself, but Johnny didn’t need to see his maudlin mood. 

Johnny sat beside him, their feet were barely touching. Morrissey swore he could feel an electric current dancing between the space their feet left. Rosemont was three states away from where they lived, Morrissey thought that level of distance was perfect. " I wasn't accepted." Johnny confessed softly. "What? Why? You're brilliant. They're idiots not to want you." "I mean I got into university… just not that one." Morrissey was afraid to ask where Johnny was accepted to, but he asked anyway. "Where were you accepted to then?" He closed his eyes and hoped Johnny didn't say Moorecrest Community College. "It was uh…. MCC." "Goddamnit." Morrissey cursed a few more times, his voice rising in volume to the point where the librarian came and shushed him. As he and Johnny tried to contain their laughter, Morrissey almost wished those jocks had smeared him to smithereens. 

Johnny wasn’t thrilled about playing soccer but he did enjoy catching glimpses of Steven in the bleachers, his nose in a book, as always. Morrissey didn’t like being around large enthusiastic crowds unless they were playing before them, but he did like the game. Johnny would deny it if asked but he was showing off a little, and he realized he’d been caught when Morrissey raised a lone eyebrow at the ostentatious footwork Johnny did before scoring the winning goal. He knew he should head for the showers soon but he needed to see if he impressed his friend. “How was losing your ‘ I’ve attended a Moorecrest sporting event’ virginity?” His friend in question just scoffed, putting on an disinterested and haughty air. “Unremarkable.” Johnny laughed with exuberance, shaking his head slightly to rid himself of droplets of sweat. “So, I can expect to see you at our next home game? “ Morrissey rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” Johnny never would get tired of hearing that uppity drawl of his, if past lives were a thing then Johnny believed Steven Morrissey had to have been royalty at one point, the way he treated people like peasants was uncanny. 

******************************

"Just fill out the application!" Johnny, Mike, and Andy yelled at him in unison. The weather was sorting itself out but The Smiths had decided to keep practicing in Andy Rourke's garage, they didn't have to pay a fee and Andy's mother gave them snacks. "And spend four more years stuck in this hell hole? I'd rather die." 

Mike rolled his eyes, popping another M&M in his mouth. Despite his casual demeanor he was restless and itching to be behind a drum kit. "You'd rather die nearly every day, you dramatic bastard. Fill. Out. The. Application. I don't have all day Moz, some of us have jobs, we should have started practice an hour ago." Morrissey understood he was outnumbered and he didn’t appreciate the jab about not working, normal jobs were so mundane. To spite his friends he spent another ten minutes filling out the application for MCC, griping about how his hopes and dreams were being incinerated before his eyes. 

By the time exams were finished the boys had new songs 'Pretty Girls Make Graves', 'This Charming Man', and 'You've Got Everything Now'. Johnny argued that some of their songs wouldn't appeal to suburban teenagers and suggested a few covers of songs from popular artists. Andy and Mike agreed with him. Morrissey fought them all, tooth and nail. After another round of arguing they decided to play 'Hand In Glove' first, then ‘Everywhere’ by Fleetwood Mac, and end with ‘This Charming Man'. 

******************************

Johnny was experiencing anxiety lately. His dad wanted him to pull an honest career, his mom supported Johnny's dream of making it in the music industry. They both didn’t approve of his desire to quit the soccer team so he would have more time with his band. To appease them both it was decided he would go to MCC and pick a trade he could fall back on in case everything fizzled out. The problem was he felt overwhelmed by all of the options offered at the local community college. 

Which was how he found himself in the counselor's office for the first time since he crashed his car into a wall last year. He heard the door open and tried to rid himself of the memories that were playing in his mind like a horror film. "John Maher! What a pleasant surprise. How are you dear?" Mrs. Martin smiled kindly at him and he felt some of the tension ease up. 

"I'm…" The word fine died on his lips, he couldn't lie to her, not when she had been so kind to him. "I'm not doing so great, Mrs. Martin. Making a decision about college is freaking me out." He studied the colorful patterned carpet beneath his feet as he continued. "I have so much pressure ya know. If this band doesn't work out, I have to pick a job where I sell my soul to a corporation wearing a suit and tie. I don't wanna do anything else. Nothing makes me feel like a whole person the way writing and playing songs with Morrissey does." 

"Oh, Johnny. That is quite a lot on your plate." She offered him a bowl of assorted treats, Johnny declined. "You said that nothing makes you feel like a whole person other than playing songs you're writing with your friend Steven. Could you expound on that?" Johnny could feel sweat pooling under his collar, he wiped at a bead dripping down his neck, before taking a few deep breaths. "That just slipped out. Can… can we move on?" "I think it would be good for you to vocalize what you're thinking and feeling." Johnny shook his head no, an expression of terror on his face. 

Mrs. Martin studied him carefully. "You seem uncomfortable. No need to worry about me pushing you. I would never do that." "Johnny, do you journal?" He nodded. "It's been neglected since Moz and I formed The Smiths but yeah I do." 

She raised her eyebrow, he could see an unspoken question in her eyes and he tensed up again, ready to defend himself as if he were under siege from a military attack. "That's good dear, that's very good. I encourage you to open your journal this week and try writing down your thoughts. Start with a single topic, make a list of everything you think about that, and when you're done, read it aloud. Come back next week and we'll see how that exercise was, okay?" 

******************************

Andy sipped his milkshake slowly. He knew that Mike had to be at work soon, he just didn't want their lunch break to end. Johnny had called off practice, Bernard Sumner was in town for the weekend. "Do you think Moz hates Bernard because the only good band at his former school got a record deal? Or do you think he wants to kill him because of Johnny?" Mike finished the rest of Andy's fries as he thought. "Bit of both, maybe. Joy Division deserves the recognition and Morrissey thought it ought to be him instead. But you don't write 'If they dare touch a hair on your head, I'll fight to the last breath' for nothing." 

Andy made a noncommittal noise. Mike grinned wolfishly. "Can't wait to see the look on Morrissey's face when he finds out Johnny got us all tickets to see Joy Division play their first local gig next month." Andy had forgotten about that. "Thanks for the reminder. I think I'll be sick that day." 

Mike's grin fell. "Aw c'mon. Who else am I supposed to make bets with about how long it takes Moz to snap?" "I'm sure Johnny would enjoy that." "Andrew…" Mike said exaggeratingly. "Michael." Andy mimicked Mike's tone perfectly, earning him a short laugh. "You owe me a bag of M&M's. Johnny boy and Robbie kissed. Course it's a moot point now, but I expect payment to be in my locker tomorrow morning Rourke." 

Andy didn't know where he would find a bigger bag of M&M's before 8:30 am, but for Mike he would search the world over and under. Thankfully there was no need for such theatrics since his mom happened to have a stash from Halloween, she chose to give the neighborhood kids Heath bars instead. He'd replace them later. Andy promised that to himself as he reached into the cupboard and grabbed several bags. Before going to bed he emptied the M&M's into a large ziploc sandwich bag and hid it in his bedroom. He was haunted by a reoccurring vision of waking up and seeing the bag melted, so he threw back the blankets and placed them in front of the air conditioner just in case. 

That morning he arrived at school a few minutes earlier. Morrissey looked positively murderous, glaring at anyone who stumbled in his path. Partnering with him in Biology would be an interesting experience. He chuckled and set out to find Mike's locker. 

At the start of the school year Mike had apparently changed lockers, claiming his old one wouldn't shut properly. Andy remembered Mike telling him the reason why he wanted his current locker; people before him had written several things on it that kept being painted over so Mike thought it was a perfect opportunity. He had Andy write 'no weed in here' even though he was more than a few inches shorter than Mike. He quickly opened the locker door and set the bag of M&M's inside. At least someone would be having a good morning, he had to deal with a grumpy Morrissey after home room. 

******************************

Morrissey liked Bernard, he wasn't an ass like his other bandmates. But now he hated him. The name Bernard Sumner would forever be blacklisted from attending a Smiths gig once they got famous, and they would be famous. The audacity to try and take his Johnny away from him. Since the blonde haired pretty boy arrived, there had been no more car rides, no whispers in the dark of their bedrooms, no Super Nintendo games, not even a passed note in the library before homeroom. Morrissey was absolutely miserable and to top it off, he had Biology for his first class. 

When he arrived, Andy was sitting behind their lab desk looking pleased as punch. Morrissey wanted to vomit. "Yes, yes. Mike's colossal bag of M&M's is the talk of Mr. Thatcher's homeroom class. It’s unbelievable how easily amused humans are. Good job, Rourke." He sat down and immediately an idea came to him. "I'm going to lay my head down and you're going to tell Phillip that I'm sick." "Mr. Porter's first name is Greg, Moz." Morrissey sighed into his arm. "Phillip is his teaching assistant, moron. How you got into university is beyond me." Andy should have felt insulted but he had learned not to take Morrissey's ire seriously. "Fine. Let's ditch. I didn't bring our book to this class anyway." 

Morrissey wanted to rant about the immoral nature of ditching school but he didn't have long to convince their TA that he was ill. He put all of his acting skills to good use as Phil gave him a once over and approved Andy to escort him to the nurse's office. "Good work, Moz. Now, my car's a block away from the student parking lot, so I want you to wait in the nurse's office. I'll create a diversion and you crawl out the window." Andy whispered as they walked downstairs toward the office area. 

" Why are you whispering?" Andy shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Seemed like it would be fun." Morrissey rolled his eyes. "I've got a better plan. How about I go to the nurse's office and convince her to let me go home. Sign out in the main office then meet you in the parking lot." Andy groaned that Moz was no fun, but he agreed to the plan because Morrissey had the legs of a giraffe and he didn't want to drive him to the hospital for injuring himself. 

******************************

Johnny was walking to his next class when suddenly he was dragged into the janitor's closet. "Andy and Steven ditched. He said they were picking up his old vhs player and we could grab food and a movie before meeting at Morrissey's. You wanna join them? We could practice after we do something fun." He quirked an eyebrow and Mike started floundering. "Not that practice isn't fun. I love the band but you and Moz can be a pill sometimes and…" Johnny's laughter cut him off. "Relax, I'm just messing with you. Sounds good. I'm in!" 

All four members of The Smiths were reunited. Mike dropped into Tony’s, an Italian bistro he had been working at to save money for college. Mike ordered them two large veggie pizzas, a side of breadsticks, and a drink. He knew neither Morrissey or Johnny had been eating well and they were both too prideful to admit it, someone had to look after them and he figured it should be himself. Andy suggested putting Johnny in charge of picking the movie, he claimed Marr had better taste. It was pure self preservation that led him to go along with the plan. Morrissey wouldn't be cross with Johnny if he hated the film, he would however vote to kick Mike out of the band if he knew the drummer chose it. 

Hours later their stomachs were happily sated. Andy and Mike left after making plans to practice at the end of the week, Andy offered to leave the vhs player for Morrissey but he declined, so it went to a junk pile next to the curb. The dull glow from the television washed the room in blue light. Instead of watching television, Morrissey watched Johnny sleep, curled up at the other end of the couch. His eyes traced the outline of Johnny’s body buried beneath a blanket and felt his fingers twitch with the desire to touch him. He shifted so his hands were settled underneath his head, it wouldn’t be wise to do something so impulsive. 

A brilliant quality Johnny possessed was naivety. How simple it was for him to display hints of attraction for the same sex, people never looked at him as if he suddenly morphed into a Hydra. Morrissey could nearly taste the bitter envy he felt writhing within. Performing was his only outlet, it was expected for musicians to take on a persona, and being sexually ambiguous was his. 

The sound of the front door being opened brought him back to reality. “Shit! Johnny, wake up. You need to leave. My mom’s home and she…” He blinked. The lights had been switched on and Morrissey tried his best to not look guilty. “Who’s this dear?” Her eyes went back and forth between Johnny and her son. “ I’m Johnny Marr. I live next door.” Johnny said from beneath the blanket. 

Morrissey was confused. There had been a rule for years stating he wasn’t allowed to have visitors over unless she had an advance notice, needed to make sure the house was spit shined and all. “Well, you’re welcome to stay for supper. Steven? Set the table for three please.” He nodded and stood up, cracking his joints as he did. While he placed dishes on the dining room table he overhead Johnny ask for the telephone so he could phone his parents. Morrissey hoped he would ask if he could spend the night, he was getting awfully bored of sneaking around his mother’s back. 

******************************

Johnny used all of his will power to force himself not to fidget. Mrs. Martin hadn’t said a word since reading the journal entries she asked him to write. He was about to break the silence when finally, she said something. “You’ve got quite a way with words John.” “It’s Johnny.” He corrected her. “Forgive me, Johnny.” She over emphasized the name and he gave her a wry grin in response. 

“Tell me about your friendship with Steven.” Johnny knew his voice sounded shaky when he said he didn’t know where to start. “How about the beginning?” He recalled their first meeting and breezed through details, editing out the nagging attraction he felt for his friend, he wasn’t a complete idiot. Thinking of how he would be ostracized if he openly admitted to liking both boys and girls made him frown. 

A counselor’s office was supposed to be a safe place but some secrets wouldn’t be allowed to stay within the confines of the four walls, the truth of his mental health was one and the potential risk of his sexuality another. The town may have been small but even Moorecrest had been rocked by the AIDS epidemic and the Lavender Scare before it. He didn’t know anyone who was brazenly out as anything other than heterosexual. He supposed Robert Smith was the closest but the townspeople assumed he was the devil’s child, so having zero regard for the sanctity of old fashioned values came with the territory. 

“Steven is a genius. Watching how he meanders through the creative process as we write songs together is out of this world. I’m quite fond of him. He… often jokes that I saved his life, but if I were being honest I think we saved each other’s.” Her eyebrows rose and Johnny knew he said the wrong thing. “Were you feeling aimless before?” In that moment he briefly entertained a fantasy in which he could transform into a Looney Tunes character, a phantom Wile E Coyote dropped an anvil on his head. “Something amusing?” Johnny shook his head. “It’s not important.” 

Johnny tapped his foot to a melody in his head as he searched for the right words to say. “Aimless? I wouldn’t say that. I’ve always known which direction I want to go in.” She considered his statement, the sound of her pen scratching against the notebook held in her arms irritated him. “How would you describe it then?” “I want to be a musician. I only want to be a musician.” While he was being honest he sighed, weighing the consequences of his next words. “Music…. is what keeps me alive.” The bell rang outside of the office but Johnny didn’t move. “Well, I’m glad you have such a good friend Johnny. This week I want you to try and pinpoint why you’re anxious when the feeling arises.” 

Johnny agreed and walked out of the office feeling a bit worse than when he had gone in. He had accepted that he was bisexual and for the first time gave himself permission to think about the ramifications of that. His stomach felt queasy when he realized he had nearly admitted to Mrs. Martin that he was having suicidal tendencies again. Johnny knew what would fix this: a bottle of Gin, a pack of smokes, and a few hours spent shredding on his guitar. To his luck he didn’t have to fake an illness, the amount of anxiety he had been feeling have his skin a sheen of sweat. While he waited in the nurse’s office, he hoped the kid he paid ten bucks to take a note to Morrissey made good on the job. 

******************************

Morrissey was reconsidering his vow to never harm another human being. First he received a note from Johnny saying he would be taking a few days for himself, without the band. Then next period he was called to the counselor’s office. Violent fantasies sped through his mind before he grimaced, lips puckered as if he tasted something sour. The woman sitting across from him smiled and if Morrissey had been naive, he would have felt he could trust her. School counselors were never to be trusted, his last one proved to him that much. “Mr. Thatcher expressed some concern over your latest essay, Steven. Would you like to talk about that?” 

His tone was hostile as he spoke, yet his facial expression was one of boredom, his fingers idly flicked lint off of his shirtsleeve. “Reece betrayed me. Mrs. Martin… while I appreciate your concern, it is patently misplaced.” She wasn’t easily thrown off course and tried again moments later. Morrissey eventually gave in to her badgering. “Fine. Let’s talk.” 

The encouraging head nod he received made him want to gag. “Reece interpreted the essay incorrectly. It wasn’t about suicidal ideation. I was making a political commentary in a creative way. Bush is killing the American public, Regan started this shit show and now that Texan idiot is following in his footsteps.” Morrissey was telling a half truth of course, but Mrs. Martin was none the wiser. “Those are very strong words. Why do you feel that way?” Morrissey scoffed. “The evidence. Regan let people die when he could have helped them and raised better awareness. Don’t even get me started on the way he militarized the police.” 

“I respect your opinion but this school has rules, Steven. You can’t make baseless claims about our government in an anarchic tone. What would your mother think?” That did it. Rage tore through him like a hot blade ripping into his skin. “My mother would understand.” Morrissey vaguely registered how his voice was rising in volume. “ My mother was the nurse who helped make my uncle comfortable while he was in the hospital. David was dying from not receiving proper treatment as an aids patient, the hospital he was in before neglected him. So you’ll forgive me if I hate the ground Regan and Bush walk on.” He didn’t wait for their time to be over. Morrissey grabbed his book bag and stormed out the door. 

He suffered throughout the remainder of the school day. Nothing felt the same without Johnny near him. The only bright spot was meeting a girl named Linder Sterling. “Can I sit here?” She gestured to the empty seat at the art table, Morrissey had worked hard to intimidate anyone from sitting beside him, he hated having a cluttered space. Yet, he nodded his head without a second thought. 

“Thanks! I was kicked out of journalism for submitting a risqué photo. It was of my friend’s kneecaps for Christ sake. Anyway, art was the only available elective.” Morrissey quirked an eyebrow. “Kneecaps, hmm? I’ve heard they’re quite the tantalizer.” Linder threw her head back and laughed. As Morrissey watched her, mesmerized by how genuinely carefree she was, he decided Linder Sterling could stick around. 

******************************

There were advantages to having his mother around more. For one, dinners were extraordinary. Another reason was they went on record hunts like they used to before Jackie went away to college. Elizabeth had questionable taste in music but Morrissey loved to watch her eyes light up when she found a record she liked. If he had liked girls then he would have been determined to find one like his mother, a girl with a kind heart and fierce wit. Speaking of girls, Linder was getting along with Elizabeth splendidly. He supposed she missed Jackie and Linder needed a nurturing hand to guide her. Regardless of their motivations for becoming friends, Morrissey felt proud to witness two strong women from an unbreakable bond. 

“Ooh. You should get this one!” He glanced over from the stack he was browsing through to see what record Linder held out to him. “If you’re here to waste my time, please cease and desist. Record Day is serious business.” Linder scoffed but placed the record on the shelf ahead of him. “Record Day?” Morrissey rolled his eyes. “Yes. It’s a family tradition, although my father seems to have forgotten how much fun he used to have in participating.” “Oh. Will you take up the family business then?” “Certainly not! That lot can fall to one of my cousins. It’s the musician's life for me baby.” Of course at that moment Johnny Marr had to walk by and overhear their conversation. 

It had been five days. No contact. He hadn’t even seen Johnny at school. Looking at him now, hair cropped short and neatly coiffed, a pair of jeans seemed as if he squeezed into them, striped button down fitting him like a glove, Morrissey’s heart was beating double time. “You’ve…. cut your hair.” Johnny stopped walking immediately. “Uh, yeah. Had a tiny mental breakdown. Claire did a good job though, don’t you think?” Morrissey nodded. His throat felt like it was collapsing in on itself. Linder looked between the two boys curiously. “Steven? Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Morrissey mentally took Linder down from the pedestal he had her on, it would take something miraculous for her to earn that place again. 

“Johnny, this is Linder Sterling. Linder, this is Johnny Marr, my best friend and my guitarist.” Johnny shook her hand with a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nice to meet you again.” Morrissey was confused. “I took photos of him and Angie for junior prom last year.” Right, he had forgotten that Johnny used to have a girlfriend.

“ Ah.” Johnny scratched at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Well.. it was good to see you Moz. Now that I’m feeling better we should go for a drive. How’s tomorrow night sound?” Morrissey agreed and he tried not to watch Johnny’s hands as he combed through the stacks. Linder elbowed him in the ribs. 

His new friend wouldn’t stop pestering him for more information on his relationship to Johnny. It was getting irksome. Linder kept prodding during the drive from the record store to his home. The brief intermission came when they had dinner. “We’re best friends. We play in a band together. What more is there to know?” Morrissey slid further down into the bathtub, amusing himself with how the bubbles frothed in the water. Linder sat on the bathroom floor and leaned her head against the sink. “Everything. But if you won’t talk… then at least let me take your picture?” Morrissey stuck his tongue out at her and that’s when he heard the click of her camera. 

******************************

The atmosphere in Johnny’s car was electric. They were parked in an abandoned field just a few miles outside the town. On the way there, Morrissey’s veins were thrumming with adrenaline. Various fantasies were flitting through his brain at warp speed and he couldn’t decide which one he wanted to happen most. “Moz, do you remember when you asked if I ever thought about dying?” Johnny whispered over the sound of crickets chirping outside. Oh. Morrissey had hoped Johnny was going to ask an entirely different question. 

“I remember.” Johnny’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. If I can’t do music full time, then what’s the point? I’ll be miserable working for a corporation, Steven.” Morrissey didn’t admonish him for using his first name. “ I understand. I’m afraid too.” Johnny scoffed. “What’s there to be afraid of for you, hmm? If music doesn’t pan out you have a brilliant fallback. Being an author suits you, Moz.” Morrissey took a deep breath. “I have more reasons to be afraid than an uncertain future, John Maher.” 

He could feel it, the fear crawling up his spine and sinking its claws into his brain. Morrissey imagined it looked similar to a spectral reptile that loved to whisper terrifying things. Johnny’s voice interrupted the intriguing distraction. “Like what?” His heart was pounding, blood rushed to his ears. “I’m…” The word gay was cut off by a pair of headlights shining into the field, thankfully they were at a distance but Johnny didn’t waste time with starting the car again. When they were safely tucked into Johnny’s bed, Morrissey heard Johnny ask him about what he was going to say earlier. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing. Come to think of it, it didn't look like nothing either. You were as white as a ghost!” Morrissey could feel the heat of Johnny’s thigh, they were so close he could reach out and graze the supple skin if he were inclined. “I- I have depression. I was going to say I’m depressed and my medication isn’t working.” Johnny didn’t say a word, he just turned toward him and pulled Morrissey closer, wrapping his arms around his waist as Morrissey leaned his head in the crook of Johnny’s neck. “It’s okay, Mozzer. Seems a trite thing to say, but we’ll get through this together..” Johnny whispered into his ear and Morrissey bit back a groan. Perhaps he would tell him one day when they were on the road, after the band was locked into a contract, so Johnny couldn’t run away. 

He laid awake, unable to turn his brain off. Johnny once had a crush on Robert Smith but that didn’t make him gay. He knew that straight boys, especially ones into alternative culture, liked to experiment but at the end of the day once they got their secret fix they were gone. Johnny didn’t seem the type to do that. Convincing himself this was true was the only way to prevent an inevitable catastrophe. But here in the darkness, with their bodies close to each other, Morrissey imagined he was free to love his friend as he wished. He even imagined that Johnny loved him back. 

******************************

Johnny managed to breeze through the school year relatively unscathed, pass most of his classes, and receive an athletic scholarship. He used all of his free time to practice with the band. With graduation upon them in a week, The Smiths needed to perfect the set list. They were playing a gig at one of the most important parties of the year, nearly the entire student body would be attending. 

Graduation was a casual affair. There had been rumors that pranks would go down but unfortunately, everything went according to plan. Johnny was disappointed at how tame his classmates were, the class of ‘92 had been known for their penchant to cause chaos. He concluded that they just wanted to get the ordeal over with. “John! We’re so proud of you dear.” His mom called out to him while Johnny searched the crowd for Robert and Morrissey. 

His dad held a disposable camera and Johnny tried not to grimace when he insisted on taking a million pictures. Afterward he received another round of congratulatory hugs before he could leave. Johnny raced from the gymnasium toward the library, knowing Morrissey would want to see it one last time. He felt a smug satisfaction knowing he had been correct, because Morrissey was sitting in their favorite seat, his cap and gown discarded on the table in front of him. 

“Hi, stranger.” Johnny chuckled when he startled. “Hi.” His voice was rough from disuse but Johnny liked it. Perhaps it was the eerie realization that the library was empty or it was knowing he was alone with Steven that sent a shiver down his spine. “I thought I’d find you here. Saying goodbye?” Morrissey grinned. “Something like that.” 

Johnny crossed the distance between them and instead of sitting in the seat next to Morrissey, he chose to sit on the floor by his chair. “Are you ready to make some poor soul fall in love with you again?” He watched as Steven’s eyebrows rose in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.” Johnny laughed. “Haven’t you noticed the doe eyed looks our audience gives you while you twirl about? They’re crazy about you.” Morrissey didn’t agree and he let Johnny know it too. “You should see yourself Moz. You’re like a completely different person up there. Bring all of that energy to our gig tomorrow night.” 

“Well, this looks cozy.” It was Johnny’s turn to startle. He didn’t have to glance up to know that Robert was leaning against a bookshelf, his legs crossed, arms folded across his chest. Johnny did look though. He couldn’t believe that for nearly half the year this boy took up all of his emotional space and now Morrissey had replaced him. “ I came to tell you that the boys and I are headed out west. Don’t freak out Johnny boy, we’re still playing the gig. Just needed to make sure you were warned in advance, can’t have ya crying on my favorite jacket.” Johnny rolled his eyes. “That jacket has had more things spilled on it than tears. You’ll be fine. Gonna miss you though.” Robert muttered, “Save the sappiness for tomorrow. Also, get ready to take a fuck ton of pictures. Mozzy, bring Linder.” 

The party was at Brice Lochlin‘s house and of course Johnny was given the task of driving. “Morrissey, if you don’t stop bitching about being around people with a lesser IQ, I swear to God.” Mike growled at the lead singer. Johnny would have been amused if they weren’t so loud. “You wouldn’t be annoyed if you agreed to let me ride shotgun.” Morrissey whispered in his ear, Johnny tried to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. “Andy’s the best navigator and you know it. It’s nothing personal, Moz.” The answering sigh told Johnny he wasn’t very convincing. 

Morrissey intended to find Linder and stay by her side for a majority of the evening, however she was currently wasting her attention on a girl who didn’t return her affections. “Dreaming of Rosemont, already Steven?” Morrissey frowned. “Haven’t you heard? I’m MCC’s newest recruit.” Jake laughed, Morrissey wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol on his breath. “You could sound happier.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Happy? Me? Certainly not.” “You have been. I’ve seen it.” And there it was, the tell tale buzzing in his ears as anxiety skyrocketed. “Consider getting your eyes checked Walters, wouldn’t do for a photographer as skilled as yourself to be shortsighted.” 

He wandered around aimlessly afterward. Johnny was helping Robert and the rest of The Cure get ready for their set, Mike and Andy were animatedly having a conversation with a group of grunge kids, Morrissey was certain they had crashed the party. Drinking wasn’t a favorite pastime of his but he thought the situation called for at least one shitty beer from a red solo cup. 

Johnny found him leaning against a wall, nursing his drink, and scowling at anyone who dared approach him. “We’re next.” He said enthusiastically. Morrissey was amused when he noticed Johnny’s grin disappear, he tracked the incredulous expression on Johnny’s face. Brown eyes followed the movement of his hands bringing the cup to his lips. “Are you here to mother me? Warn me about the perils of teenage drinking?” Johnny shook his head. “Just surprised is all. Thought you didn’t drink.” Morrissey was annoyed at the questioning tone, he couldn’t explain why but he wanted this conversation to be over. “You don’t know everything about me, Maher.” Morrissey didn’t watch Johnny’s back as he walked away. 

When they arrived on stage, their quarrel had been forgotten. Morrissey had finished his drink in peace and the band gave their all to performing. The crowd was less enthusiastic than what they were used to but thankfully Robert Smith and his goons riled them up. As Morrissey flailed about he took a moment to study everyone, as dreadful as they were he knew that singing to an audience was all he wanted to do. When he glanced at Johnny, he knew he felt the same. “Perhaps the future won’t suck after all.” Morrissey thought to himself and then he sang as if his life depended on it, in a way he supposed it did. It was exhilarating now that he had something to live for.

After their set, the band said goodbye to Robert and the rest of The Cure. Johnny clutched Robert to him. “Be safe out there. Write to me when you’re settled in.” Robert rolled his eyes but Johnny felt the way he hugged him tighter in response. “Be good, Johnny boy.” Then before Robert pulled away he whispered in his ear, “And tell Steven that you love him.” Hours later when he and Morrissey were laying in Johnny’s bed he watched Steven as he slept. “I don’t love him. Steven is my musical partner and my lifeline but I don’t love him romantically, it’s just his magnetism.” Morrissey rolled over and interrupted his inner monologue by talking in his sleep. He was dreaming of having a conversation with Linder and Johnny forgot how to breathe when he heard Morrissey tell dream Linder that he was in love with John Maher. Johnny carefully slid out from under the blanket and reached for the bottle of Gin he kept hidden in his bedside drawer.


End file.
